


Just A Matter Of Time

by tifaching



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood Drinking, Blow Jobs, Bottom Dean, Hell, Hurt Dean Winchester, M/M, Male Slash, Mind Games, Oral Sex, Rape, Slash, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-09
Updated: 2011-05-09
Packaged: 2017-10-19 05:16:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/197299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tifaching/pseuds/tifaching
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alastair loves playing with Dean's mind as much as his body</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just A Matter Of Time

**Author's Note:**

> Written for spn_hardcore's virginity/first time comment fic meme for this prompt: Even though it's hard to call Dean a virgin of any kind, he's never been with men. His first time to do so, is with Alistair in hell and Alistair just loves taking advantage of that.

Dawn is Alastair’s favorite time of day. He’s a busy demon, there are lots of souls that need his special touch, but though he may rip apart a different soul each night, there are none that he ever feels the need to return to. None that have the almost physical pull that drags him back to his favorite each and every morning. There’s been no soul in Alastair’s experience that’s ever been like Dean.

If Alastair had his way, he’d spend twenty-four hours a day with his boy, but that would be counterproductive right now. If he hadn’t been gone for the last 12 hours, there would be no fear of his return. No beautiful toy hanging on its rack, waiting in terror to see what form his tormenter will take today, what new torture he will have devised. The demon shudders in anticipation of the day’s activities. He’s skinned Dean and eviscerated him. He’s crushed and impaled and boiled the righteous man and he’s chopped him into tiny bits that he’s fed to the hell hounds. He’s done all these things and more to Dean’s naked body with a clinical detachment that didn’t even begin to border on the sexual. That ends today.

He pauses in the corridor outside Dean’s cell. Dean knows he’s there, Alastair is always careful to make sure of that so Dean’s fear can reach its maximum intensity before his torturer enters the room. Alastair takes a deep breath and transforms. Tonight he’s got reptilian scales on a humanoid body, with a few surprises in store for his date. His smile is dark and fanged and full of the promise of pain as he enters the room.

Dean’s spread out on the rack, bare and whole and so beautiful that Alastair wants to rip him to pieces right then and there. He’s trying to act strong and unafraid, but Alastair can see desperation in those beautiful eyes- smell the fear that permeates the room like the world’s most potent aphrodisiac.

“Dean,” Alastair breathes, a miasma of rot and pestilence riding his exhalation. He trails a hand lightly up Dean’s thigh, claws digging shallow furrows into the skin. “ _Has anyone ever told you how lovely you are?_ ”

Dean doesn’t answer, but his body tenses as Alastair’s hand makes a detour, and he makes a strangled sound as the claws scrape a more sensitive body part.

“It’s rude not to answer a question, my boy. And you know how I can’t abide rudeness. Now. Has anyone ever told you how lovely you are?”

Dean gasps. “Lovely’s not really a word people use for a dude, dude.”

“True,” Alastair murmurs, as he retracts his claws and continues to fondle Dean. “I suppose all those girls that you fucked called you something else while they were stroking your….ego. What was it?”

“Ahhhh, stop. Please.” Dean’s moving, trying to escape Alastair’s touch, but his motions just push him harder against the scale-covered hand that is caressing him. “Don’t.”

“Answer the question, my lovely, and maybe I won’t.”

“Gorgeous,” Dean chokes out. “Some of them called me gorgeous.”

Alastair’s hand slides from between Dean’s thighs and the claws drag their way up Dean’s abdomen, leaving bloody scratches in their wake. “Very good, my boy. The girls called you gorgeous. That’s certainly true enough. Now tell me. What did the men call you?”

“Don’t…arghhh…don’t swing that way.”

“That doesn’t mean they didn’t _look_. That they didn’t _want_. That they didn’t _try_. What did they _call_ you?” Alastair’s hand has reached Dean’s chest and he stretches out his index finger, tracing a claw around Dean’s nipple. The claw goes round and round, deeper and deeper; a moat of blood dug into Dean’s skin.

As tempting as the sight of Dean’s blood is, Alastair keeps his eyes locked on the other man’s face. Dean’s got some hard lessons to learn today and that there’s nothing that he can keep a secret here is going to be one of them. The claw that had been digging in Dean’s flesh moves and spears the nipple it had been circling, pulling and twisting the raw tissue beneath.

“What, Dean. What did all the men who wanted to have you for their own call you?”

“ _Pretty_ ,” Dean spits, writhing in pain. “Most of them called me pretty.”

“That describes you to a tee, my pet. You are _very_ pretty. Now, was that so hard to say?” Alastair releases his hold, relishing the flash of shame in Dean’s eyes. “What did they want from you, Dean? What else did they say when they called you _pretty_?”

Dean clenches his jaw, tries to turn his face away, but Alastair grips his chin and doesn’t allow it. He closes his eyes against what he sees in the demon’s face.

“Uh, uh, uh Dean. Don’t make me take your eyelids off. You know you’re even lovelier when you’re covered in blood.”

Dean’s eyes open, and Alastair’s been hard since he entered the room, but the despair he sees there makes him even more eager to get the morning’s festivities under way. He’s got a few more hooks to sink into his boy’s psyche though, before he sinks his cock into him and takes that delectable virginity.

“Now, Dean. What did they want?” Alastair’s hand is moving again, talons digging and twisting, and Dean cries out as it dives back between his legs.

“Ahhhh! To suck their cocks! They wanted me to suck their cocks!”

“Mmmmm,” Alastair begins to gently stroke Dean and his boy bites back a moan. “I imagine they did. Those pretty lips stretched wide, that nimble tongue licking and sucking. Could you deep throat, Dean? Were you everything they hoped?”

“No..I didn’t…I never….”

“Never?”

“No! Never!”

Alastair lets out a sigh. “Easy, my boy. _Easy_. I believe you. All those men. Looking. Wanting. Lusting. But you never gave in. I bet you would have, though, if you knew.”

“Knew what?”

“How often your father looked.”

Dean jerks and Alastair tightens his grip until Dean cries out in pain.

“That’s a fucking lie!”

“No, Dean. Your father hung right where you are now, on this very rack, and told me so himself. There’s only so long a soul can suffer my tender ministrations before the truth comes spilling out right along with the blood and guts. Of course it took a whole lot longer with your father than it did with his little girl, but what he said was the God’s honest truth.”

“No. He never touched me.” Dean’s eyes are wild with denial.

“Of course he didn’t. What kind of a man do you think your father was? He thought about it, though. Do you have any idea how many boys he put on their knees while he was off on his hunts, so he could make believe they were you? Oh, _far_ too many to count.”

“No.” Dean’s growling, even as his hips buck against Alastair’s hand.

“Yes. Know who else looked Dean? Little Sammy. Ever since he reached puberty, he’s wondered what it would be like to fuck your fine ass. Thinks it’s sick, thinks it’s wrong, but oh, how he wants to feel how tight you are, to know how you’d look all spread out, naked and begging for him.”

“Not true,” Dean’s muttering. “Not true, not true, not…”

“Don’t you wish you’d known, Dean? That they’d just given you one inkling of what they were thinking, what they wanted? Because you know you would have given it to them.” Alastair’s head dips low and his tongue flicks out; long and thick and forked, lapping gently at Dean’s bloody nipple. The demon’s head moves higher and he forces a kiss on Dean’s gasping mouth, his fangs leaving puncture marks on Dean’s lips. “You would have sucked Daddy down as often as you could. You would have spread your legs for Sammy, let him fuck you as hard as he wanted. You would have done _anything_ to make yourself into something they’d think was worth keeping around. If only you’d known.”

“I didn’t,” Dean moans. “I didn’t know.”

“Shhhh,” Alastair soothes, his hand moving faster on Dean’s cock. “Of course you didn’t, how could you? But now that you do you’re imagining it too, aren’t you? On your knees in front of Daddy, Sammy pounding you from behind? Both of them loving you, needing you. Feels good, doesn’t it?“

Dean’s hips are bucking into Alastair’s fist, his body unable to resist what his mind is trying so desperately to deny. He wouldn’t have… _they_ wouldn’t have. It’s a trick, a lie, but when he comes, it’s Sam’s name that flies from his lips.

“There,” Alastair says approvingly. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? Look at you. My pretty, pretty boy. Post orgasm, covered in come.” The forked tongue glides over Dean’s belly, licking it clean, then slides into Dean’s mouth as Alastair bruises Dean’s lips with another hard kiss.

“They would only have been using you, of course; if they’d had the slightest inclination to tie themselves to you to even that extent.” Alastair’s hands move, tracing gently up and down Dean’s sides. “All this was theirs for the taking, and they couldn’t be bothered to take it. They had their chance to be first, my boy, and they spurned it. Do you know what that means?”

“That they were my family and they loved me? That you’re a fucking liar who’s screwing with my head?”

“Still got a little fight in you, my lovely? That’s good. But I’m not lying. And your head’s not what I’m going to be screwing with. Well, it’s not the _only_ thing I’m going to be screwing with. Your father is still here, still not broken, and when you’ve mastered all that I’m going to teach you, I’m going to take you to him. You’ll kneel and call him _Daddy_ and suck his cock so beautifully that he’ll regret, _aloud_ , all the years he wasted up above not training you himself. Your brother will get his chance too. He’s destined for big things, our Sammy. He’ll be down here eventually, and what you and I will have will seem like nothing compared to the agony you’ll feel when he takes you. “

“You and I don’t have anything.” Dean snarls.

“Oh, but we will. What it means- that your father and brother didn’t take you- is that I get to be first. I get to, shall we say, deflower you. Take your innocence, such as it is. We’ll role play, doesn’t that sound fun? You’ll be the reluctant, virgin bride, and I’ll be the amorous, brutal, and extremely well endowed groom.”

Dean’s struggling against his restraints, but he knows it’s futile. He’s not going anywhere and experience has taught him that Alastair is going to do whatever he wants and that he’s not going to be able to do anything more than lie there and take it. Take him. All those guys he shot down over the years (some of whom he’d had to _put_ down) and he’s giving it up to a demon.

Alastair smiles as he sees understanding strike home. He licks his lips at the flush darkening Dean’s skin and wonders how he’ll take his boy first. Dean’s still talking, muttering threats, and obscenities and anything else he can use to distract Alastair. It’s one of his classic defense mechanisms and Alastair’s more than a little tired of it. He decides that what he wants to do first is shut Dean up, and it will be awfully hard for Dean to talk with his mouth stuffed full of cock.

With a thought, Alastair releases the bindings holding Dean to the rack, catching him by the hair and flinging him to the floor as he tries to strike out. Dean scrambles to his knees, but that’s as far as he gets as thick vines erupt from the ground and wind themselves around his ankles, foot long thorns piercing his flesh, anchoring him firmly in place, twining around his wrists and holding them behind his back. Dean’s screaming now, profanity ringing through the air and Alastair backhands him, rocking him nearly flat on his back, then jerks him back up to follow it with a punch to the mouth.

“Now, now sweetheart,” he murmurs, crouching in front of Dean and licking the blood from his lips, “you know I don’t like to hear that kind of language from you.” He straightens, gripping Dean’s hair and tilting his head back. “Let’s see if we can’t put that beautiful mouth of yours to better use.”

Dean clenches his teeth and his eyes dart everywhere, desperately trying to avoid the sight of the engorged member dangling in front of his face. Alastair grasps Dean’s head in both hands, claws digging into his scalp.

“Open up, pet. I know it looks too big, and you’re afraid you won’t be able to take it all, but I just know that you can. Come on, now. Open wide.”

The vines restraining Dean begin to move, thorns ripping and tearing at his flesh, and Alastair takes full advantage of his scream, forcing the head of his cock past Dean’s lips. Even with just the tip inside, Dean’s stretched wide, the corners of his mouth cracking and trickling blood. Dean tries to bite down, to do anything to expel Alastair, but it’s like a cold, living piece of metal is forcing its way into him and he makes no impression at all.

“Uh, uh, uh,” Alastair chides as another vine erupts from the earth and digs its spines into Dean’s cock. “Watch those teeth, my boy.” He pushes in further, spreading Dean’s mouth impossibly wide, until it’s so full that his jaw dislocates. Alastair shudders at the vibrations of Dean’s choked cries. “Mmmmm, more of _that_ , please. And such a good boy, opening so wide for me.”

Tears are running down Dean’s face as Alastair continues to push into him, through his mouth and all the way down his throat. The demon bares his fangs at the sight of Dean’ neck- swollen and misshapen from the hard length filling it. When his balls are pressed to Dean’s chin, Alastair begins to rock into him, humming in pleasure as Dean’s muffled screams continue to massage his sensitive flesh.

Blood leaks from Dean’s mouth as the sharp edges of Alastair’s scales shred his throat. The demon’s claws punch through Dean’s skull and he uses the grip to hold Dean’s head still as he fucks hard into the bloody mess. Dean’s moans are weak and wet and agonized and if Alastair didn’t have another cherry to pop, he’d keep this up all day. As it is, the thought of what he still has in store for Dean has him coming after only two or three hundred thrusts. He lost count somewhere, something that’s very unlike him. His boy just makes him lose his head somehow.

Alastair pulls Dean flush against him, his length practically reaching into his boy’s stomach, and comes. Cold, thick, putrescence floods into Dean, rich with the taste of rotting flesh and he gags as it continues to flow as Alastair slowly pulls out. Orange liquid slowly oozes out of Dean’s mouth as his blood mixes with Alastair’s come. Dean tries to cough, to rid himself of Alastair’s filth, but his jaw won’t work, and the fluid trickles down into his lungs.

The demon’s claws are still hooked into Dean’s skull and he pulls Dean’s head back to get a good look at his handiwork. “So beautiful, my pet. So beautiful when you’re full of my essence. “

Muted chokes are all Dean can respond with and Alastair laughs. “What’s that you say, my pet? You want more? I _heard_ that you were insatiable.”

Dean struggles weakly against the embedded claws as Alastair hardens again. The demon’s cock gets thicker, longer and continues to grow until it’s like a baseball bat hanging between his legs. “I know what they say, sweetheart, but size _does_ matter. Bigger is better, right Dean?”

The vines momentarily release their hold on Dean as Alastair knocks him to the ground. They immediately return to restraining him, puncturing his wrists and pulling his hands over his head, then encircling his legs to the thigh, pulling them up and apart. Blood runs from where the thorns spear him and Alastair coats his hands with it before rubbing it on his cock.

“I always find that blood makes the best lube, baby. Let me know what you think when we’re done, will you? I know you really don’t have anything to compare it to, but you will. There are all sorts of things we have yet to try.”

The demon lowers himself until he’s pressed up against Dean’s hole and then reaches up to grip Dean’s jaw, snapping it back into place. “You’re going to make the loveliest sounds when I take you, my pet.”

Claws dig into Dean’s hips and skull as Alastair begins to push in. The demon pulls Dean’s head up so he can watch the monstrous length as it’s forced inside him, inch by agonizing inch. Bloody fluid bubbles from Dean’s mouth as screams ring from his mutilated throat. The demon doesn’t stop until his balls throb against Dean’s ass and his heavy body is pinning Dean to the floor. The mess Alastair made of Dean’s throat doesn’t distract Dean at all from his tormenter’s latest violation. In Hell there’s always a greater pain coming.

Alastair lies motionless for long moment, tongue lapping the bloody come from Dean’s lips. Dean lets out a pained gasp as the demon’s cock begins to move. Alastair’s balls are still pressed tightly against Dean but his cock is writhing sinuously against Dean’s insides, shredding them as efficiently as it had his throat.

“Mmmmm,” Alastair whispers. “So hot and wet for me, my love.”

Dean can feel the blood leaking out of him, and inside, it burns like molten iron as Alastair begins to move. He thrusts like a battering ram, pushing so far in that it feels to Dean like the demon cock is going end up fucking his throat from the other direction. Dean screams until he can make no more sound, and still Alastair continues to rape him. Finally the demon stills, and it’s his turn to scream as he climaxes, filling Dean with the burning sludge of his come.

Alastair sighs in contentment and presses kisses against Dean’s slack lips before forcing Dean’s head up to watch his withdrawal. Alastair pulls out just as slowly as he’d pushed in, dick coated with blood and the tar-like discharge he’d filled Dean with. Occasionally a piece of Dean will come out, burned and fused to the demon’s flesh and Alastair will pick it off and force Dean to swallow it. After what seems like forever, the head slips out and Alastair kneels between Dean’s legs, his hand sliding in and out of Dean’s gaping anus.

“Oh, so good for me, my boy. Our first time was almost everything I’d hoped it would be. I’m just a little disappointed,” he murmurs, tongue flicking out to stroke Dean’s flaccid cock, “that you weren’t as _responsive_ as I would have liked.”

The tongue wraps itself around Dean, squeezing and stroking him, the forked end alternately probing his slit and tickling his balls. Dean unwillingly begins to harden as it slides across his flesh, warm and wet and Alastair continues to fuck Dean with his fist. One last undulation up his shaft, and over the head has Dean coming in pulsing spurts and Alastair chuckles as he slithers up Dean’s slick belly to press more kisses on him.

“It’s all right, my boy. You’ll learn to enjoy this just as much as I do. When I take you to Daddy, you’re going to suck me first, enthusiastically, and let him see what he’s got to look forward to. And after you’ve given him the only thing he ever really wanted from you, you’re going to ask me to fuck you. You’re going to spread your legs right there in front of your father and _beg_ me to take you.” The demon smiles as he draws obscene pictures on Dean’s flesh with his claws. “Maybe I’ll make you call _me_ Daddy when you do it. And when you come from nothing more than my cock in your ass, you’ll scream my name.”

There’s denial behind the terror and pain in Dean’s eyes, but Alastair watches and waits as his words sink deep inside to the place where what Dean believes lives.

I won’t, Dean thinks, unable to speak the words through his ruined throat. But then the dark place opens up and lets the demon’s words in. _Pathetic, useless, weak_. All the things that Dean _knows_ are true about himself, the things he’s never been able to change. He’ll break eventually, and he’ll do exactly what Alastair wants. He’ll do it to his father, in front of his father, and Dad will be disgusted- he’ll disappoint his father yet again. _I will_ , he admits to himself, _but I’m not going to make it easy for the son of a bitch_.

Alastair laughs as he sees the realization hit Dean, knows exactly what’s gone through his boy’s head.

“There, there, my pet. Your father knows what a pussy hound you were topside, you think he’ll be surprised that you’re a slut for cock too? “ He releases the vines and forces Dean back to his knees. With a thought, Dean is whole- clean and tight and Alastair can’t wait to mess him up again. “Are you ready for round two, sweetheart?”

The demon runs a claw along Dean’s lips. “I expect more participation from you this time, I know it’s hard, but try to do a little sucking. You need to start working on those oral skills that your father is so looking forward to enjoying.”

Dean doesn’t participate, but Alastair doesn’t mind, reveling in destroying Dean yet again. His boy will give him what he wants eventually, and they both know it. It’s just a matter of time.


End file.
